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All that fucking stone clearing and self playing snooker to keep the nation’s spirits up through lock down and the bastard Queen gives me fuck all as a reward. Fuck the lot of you.
Well the joke will be on her when she is forgotten and my wall makes me the most famous person in all history.
We had friends over (only 2, so don’t worry Rule of Six Custodians) and my kids were dressed in identical yellow T shirts and my wife was wearing a yellow cardigan, so it seemed only right that I join the team. My only yellow item of clothing was an old RHLSTP T-shirt, so I put that on.
It was only later, when I took my daughter to her gym class and took off my jacket as I waited in the seating area with the other parents, that it struck me how arrogant I would look in the unlikely event that any of the other people there recognised me and knew about the podcast. There’s the guy who goes around wearing his own merchandise in the hope of being recognised.
Luckily I think the chances of about a dozen Hertfordshire mums, dads and International nannies would recognise me or the name of the podcast. At bet one of them might have wondered what the letters of Charley Boorman’s T shirt stood for.
Our friend Christina, who we’d last seen when we were on holiday in Camber Sands had given a drawing that Phoebe had done for her back then of a monster with carrots for teeth, who farted bums and given it to her Viz cartoonist friend, Alex, who had turned it into an amazing cartoon character. Which was more than a little bit brilliant.
And we had a fun social evening where we ate good food and drank some booze, almost like we weren’t in a plague year.
The RHLSTP notebook topped £800 in the auction today, but it’s not over yet. Be terrific if we could get over £1000 for Refuge. Maybe next time we might do a £10 raffle on the thing so that there’s a chance the book could go to a non-eccentric thousandaire, but thanks to the very generous people who’ve been bidding so far. Join in the fun here
